


Rungs of Hunger

by huevoplatano



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Incest, Jealousy, Protective Siblings, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huevoplatano/pseuds/huevoplatano
Summary: Summer has a hard time admitting she's jealous of Morticia who gets all of Rick's attention. But, that's about to change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've been thinking about this idea nonstop and dammit, i gotta get it off my chest. 
> 
> enjoy a summer-centric fic. more chapters will come (maybe lol)

Sundays were always the worst. The whole day felt like it was a waste because then the weekday started right after, so there was no going out with friends or staying up late or anything like that.

Summer leaned back against her bed frame enough that the hard-wooden texture dug into her shoulder blades and let out a deliberate annoyed sigh. So much for any weekend plans she might have thought about having. Usually, Summer would go out of her way to hang out with her friends or at least go walking around the mall on weekends, but because her teacher decided to be an absolute dick and schedule a test on Monday, she was stuck all weekend studying. Her grades weren’t perfect, but Summer sure as hell wasn’t about to start slacking for senior year. She was always one to never strive for perfection, but also never let herself get so pathetic she did something as dumb as fail a class.

That was Morticia’s job, usually.

Another annoyed sigh seeped from between her teeth as Summer poured over her literature book. She didn’t know how Morticia wasn’t expelled from school at this point in time and put in technical classes or something as bad as her grades were getting. It wasn’t too long ago that Summer returned home, backpack slung over her shoulder as she entered through the front door only to hear her dad bitching about something or other. Despite Jerry never being one to raise his voice as she really didn’t think he was even capable, it surprised Summer to hear her dad practically yelling from the kitchen that day.

Morbidly curious, Summer took only a moment to listen in on just what it was that had gotten her dad’s underwear in a knot before she heard his words loud and clear.

“Do you think this is acceptable, young lady?! We never pressured you and your sister to make straight A’s, but flunking out isn’t going to happen either!”

A small strangled sound, like Morticia had been cornered against the wall and was whimpering like a trapped animal. “I-I--” And her usual prominent stutter that never made matters any better was getting the better of her.

Then, Mom’s voice, also angry and loud, which was unusual to hear their parents yelling at one of them as that was usually directed toward each other. “What do you have to say about this? What are you planning to do, huh?!”

It was so unlike their parents to lecture them like this, as Summer always thought they didn’t give two shits how they performed in school, but she clutched the strap of her backpack as she backed out of the room and headed upstairs. It made her uncomfortable hearing her sister get her head bitten off like that, but she wasn’t about to go rush in and defend her either.

It was her fault for flunking out. She probably played too many video games or—

Summer bit her lip when the thought came to mind.

Or maybe it was from all those late nights out with Rick.

Summer frowned as she repositioned herself down on her stomach with her lit book splayed out in front of her, her mind too occupied to really concentrate on studying any more than she had done this weekend. Of course, thinking about how Mom and Dad chewed out her sister still weighed on her mind too. She wanted to feel bad for her, but a part of her had made it known that this was Morticia’s fault for always going on late night adventures with their grandpa. If she grew a backbone and told him no sometimes and that she had to keep her grades up, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Sighing again, Summer finally let her eyes stray away from the words on the page in front of her and leaned away, stretching out onto the bed and popping her back in the process. Of course, if Rick ever asked her out on an adventure once in a while, she would be all too happy to drop what she was doing and go help him. Not like that ever happened, but it was a nice thought. Still, if he insisted too much when her grades were on the line, Summer had enough sense to tell him when enough was enough, unlike her little sister.

Flopping over onto her back, Summer stared up at the ceiling before closing her eyes. If Rick ever asked her to go out on an adventure, she would drop everything to go. But, that wasn’t ever going to happen. He had Morticia out there helping him do whatever the fuck it was he did when he took her out to space. And why her anyway? Surely Summer was better equipped to help him out when he needed the help. Or he could invite her out with the both of them sometimes. It sucked staying here and as much as she liked going to the mall and hanging out with her friends, she also felt left out just indulging in her mediocre life while her sister and grandpa got to go on high stakes space adventures.

She sighed for the umpteenth time that night.

It wasn’t fair.

She was just as much capable of anything Morticia was capable of, which—given by her track record with school—wasn’t that much to begin with. So, why did Grampa Rick always pick _her_ to go adventuring with? What did he see in her that he didn’t see in Summer?

With her eyes closed, Summer began to feel the weight on top of her chest that came with sleep as she slowly drifted off.

It really wasn’t fair at all, being stuck here like this, being normal, focusing on her grades—and she wasn’t so high and mighty that she couldn’t admit she was jealous of Morticia. Jealous because he always— _always_ —picked her.

Why her?

Why not Summer?

With these thoughts buzzing around in her head, Summer slowly drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to turn her nightstand light off.

* * *

The sun hadn’t yet risen outside, as evident by the blackened windows when Summer stirred from sleep. She moaned at the sight of her lamp blinding her across the bed, and she rolled over in bed to flick it off and go back to sleep—but she stopped at what had actually caused her to stir from sleep in the first place.

Morticia was at her bedside, hands pushed down into the mattress and her knee swung over the side of the bed as though trying to sneakily climb in next to her. Her face was frozen in silent shock when Summer whirled over in bed to catch her red-handed.

“Morti, what the hell are you doing?” Her voice croaked out from sleep and she sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes as Morticia, now caught, backed off from her bed and stood up straight. With her hands held behind her back, her pink nightgown haven fallen back over her legs, she looked like such a kid standing there, her cheeks slightly pink from embarrassment at getting caught.

“S-sorry.”

Ugh, her constant stutter was getting on Summer’s every last nerves, especially considering she’d been woken up in the middle of the night, the night right before a fucking test no less. Rolling back over and pulling the blanket up to her chin, Summer dismissed her sister, trying to let her know she wasn’t in the mood for her weird bullshit tonight. “Go away. Some of us actually have to pass some tests tomorrow.” Then, just because she was grumpy, added, “Or maybe Grampa will whisk you away on an adventure, so you can skip class again.”

“But--” Morticia’s voice was low, but not so low that Summer didn’t hear some sort of desperation in the way she spoke to her. “I had a—had a nightmare. I’m scared to sleep in my room.”

Blinking her eyes open once more, Summer sat up in bed again, now grumpier than before that her beauty sleep was getting interrupted like this. Morticia stood at her bedside, not looking at her, but having downcast her face and was fumbling with the fabric of her pajamas. Summer scoffed at her. “What are you, a toddler? You should have gotten over your fear of the dark years ago. That’s not my problem.”

“Please?” Morticia wasn’t backing down, and it wasn’t unusual of her to come into Summer’s room like this after having a bad nightmare, but she hadn’t done so since she was probably twelve, to which Summer, with some convincing, let her sleep next to her as long as she promised not to wriggle around or wake her up again. But, as her little sister stood there, wringing her hands through her pajamas so much that the fabric wrinkled, Summer let out a loud, purposefully annoyed moan.

She was too nice sometimes. “Whatever. You know the drill. No moving around or anything and _don’t_ wake me up again.” With that said, she flopped over in bed, pulling the covers back up to her face and trying to ignore how the mattress dipped behind her as Morticia climbed into bed next to her.

This was something little kids did, and it only put Summer in that much more of a bad mood as she thought how embarrassing it was for her fourteen-year-old sister to still be acting like such a baby over something as stupid as a nightmare. Dreams couldn’t possibly be _that_ bad. Morticia could be so whiny sometimes, but despite that, Summer had a hard time saying no to her when she begged like that.

Morticia was still her little sister after all.

Flicking the nightstand light off, Morticia finally settled down into bed with her as Summer focused on drifting back to sleep, now that the room was pitch black. A slight movement behind her, and Morticia let out a content sigh before whispering, “Thank you,” to her.

She gripped the pillow under her head between her fingers until her nails dug through. This was exactly why she couldn’t turn her away, despite the childish habits. Morticia was just so pathetic, and she really did act like a kid most of the time.

Maybe Summer should take her to the mall one day, if she got her grades back up. A small reward for doing much better in school. Maybe she would even buy her something.

It’d probably be awhile for that happened. She couldn’t see Morticia suddenly becoming a star pupil overnight like that. Well, it was a thought no less, and with that, Summer finally drifted back to sleep.

* * *

_Ugh_.

Her feet were killing her for some reason. As much as she sat on her ass all day in class, Summer felt blisters forming on her toes later that day when she sauntered back home, opening the door and feeling like she needed to shower immediately to get the smell of school off of her. Yeah, it had an odor, she swore, and every time, she hogged the bathroom and used up all the hot water to get that gross feeling off her. Maybe today would be a good day to finally fill the tub with hot water so her feet could soak.

Hmm, on second thought, as she pulled her shoes off her feet, noticing how the sides of her feet were imprinted red from being shoved inside those shoes, she grimaced at the thought that her feet grew at some point and now she needed new footwear. At least that would give her an excuse to go to the mall at some point. Ugh, why couldn’t her body grow in the places she wanted? Like her fucking tits for example. She would never ever tell her mother that she was jealous of her breast size, but dammit, she couldn’t help but silently wish she had inherited that part of her mother.

It didn’t seem like Morticia was getting lucky with that either, but Summer didn’t spend that much time ogling her sister’s tits, as she had better things to do. Like passing class and actually making friends.

She was pretty confident she aced that lit test, but that didn’t stop her from throwing her backpack down by the front door and leaning against the door before letting out a tired moan. School could drag on so much sometimes that Summer felt exhausted just being there, despite sitting down in a desk all day and not moving that much, but she felt like just sitting there doing nothing was more exhausting that anything else.

At least she was home now, and even though she had homework, she was going to indulge in something nice for a while. Like eating a giant bowl of ice cream.

As she entered the kitchen, Summer noticed how quiet it was in the house. Well, it wasn’t unusual for her mother to stay late for surgery or whatever, sometimes even pulling all-nighters to save someone’s beloved horse, but it _was_ unusual for Dad not to be there sitting on the couch watching sitcoms. Was he actually…out looking for a job?

Summer scoffed, reaching in the freezer for the ice cream. Not likely. He probably went to go spend Mom’s money on something like booze or gambling, or hell. She didn’t even know what her father did in his spare time, but it couldn’t have been anything impressive.

Getting an ample amount of ice cream into a bowl, Summer put some chocolate syrup on it (the best part) before taking her bowl and heading up to her room. As she ascended the stairs, she pulled out her phone to see she had a couple missed text messages. That would be a nice way to spend the rest of her afternoon, chugging ice cream and texting her friends. They were trying to get together at some point that weekend and go look at the winter clothes that had come in, as the weather only got colder and colder by the day.

A quick text back and Summer almost pulled her door open to go enjoy her snack before a sound caused her to stop, her hand hovering just above the door handle.

It was almost unheard in that moment as she stood frozen in the hallway, but there was no mistaking the sound of her sister letting out a sob. Just barely loud enough that she could hear it through her closed door.

Any other time, Summer would probably have ignored her sister’s obvious crying, rolled her eyes, and continued into her room to enjoy her ice cream, but—

She couldn’t help but feel a shiver go up her spine at the way her sister’s voice sounded in that moment she heard her sob. Something was telling her to go and investigate, make sure Morticia was okay, because she was obviously not okay. Something was wrong.

As if she were being pulled by an unseen force, Summer found herself drifting away from her door to that of her sister’s, and she parted her lips to ask the question if Morticia was okay as her hand reached forward to grab the handle, but—

“Shh!”

Her hand froze, her whole body shivering for some reason at the sound of another voice.

It was muffled through the closed door, but Summer could hear the words, “What are you trying to do, Morti? What have I—have I told you about being too—too loud, huh?” The unmistakable voice of her grandpa, shushing Morticia for some reason, and there was the very clear sound of her sister sniffling before crying out something Summer couldn’t understand. The sound made her chest tighten up for some reason, and she felt a little guilty eavesdropping like this, but her curiosity wouldn’t let her leave either. She pressed her ear against the door, trying to be as quiet as possible as she listened in.

“Nobody’s even here, Morti, so why are you freaking out like this?”

“Rick, please.” Another small sob from Morticia, and Summer could feel her muscles clench up at the sound of how absolutely miserable her sister sounded right now. “I don’t want to do this in the house.”

“You bitch when I take you off planet. Where else are we supposed to do it, huh? You got any bright ideas, because I’d love t-to hear them, Morti.”

“I don’t want you to-to do this anywhere. I-I just wanted to study and—and get my grades back up.” Her voice choked out every word that she said, until Summer almost started shaking, her ear still pressed so far up against the door, she had stopped breathing to hear what was being said.

“That’s your goddamn fault for flunking out anyway. Don’t make out like I’m the fucking bad guy for doing that. That’s all on you, _baby_.”

Summer’s stomach lurched at the word he just used. It wasn’t uncommon for Grampa Rick to use pet names with them, but this—

There was something about the way he inflected his words—not at all the way someone would use a pet name. He didn’t talk to Morticia like he was chastising his granddaughter, but like he was scolding his wife or something for pissing him off.

Summer almost gasped out as the realization slowly crept up, crawling all the way from her legs to her back, until she was forcing herself not to start shaking.

Was—

Was Grampa… No. He wouldn’t do anything like that to her. Summer was overthinking it. Maybe they just had some stupid fight earlier and Summer was catching the after effects of it.

“Don’t call me that, Rick. I hate it.” Morticia’s miserable voice once again through the door, and then the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The first thing Summer thought was that Rick had hit her sister, and she was about to burst into the room, but Morticia continued speaking, not as though she’d been slapped or anything, but just—fucking _miserable_ sounding. Summer had never heard her sister choke and sob like she was doing right now. Not even as kids when they sometimes fought over something stupid and she threw a tantrum. This was just-- “I just want you to lay off for a while, okay? I have to get my grades back up or-or I’m going to flunk out of school and--”

“I’ve told you a thousand times that you don’t need school, but fuck if you ever listened to me. And what do you mean _‘lay off’_?”

Summer’s body was frozen behind the door as the next words spoken by her Grampa sent a shiver so powerful up her back that she physically shook from it.

“It’s not like I’ve put my cock in you yet.”

That was the last thing he said before Summer had burst through the door, no longer concerned with being quiet or sneaky. She shoved the door wide open and stood there as Rick and Morticia flipped their heads over in shock of the door flying open like that.

The scene in front of her almost didn’t seem real.

Morticia was lying on her back, her shirt pulled up to expose her breasts, while Rick was straddling her waist, one of his hands cupping her chest and in the process like he had been playing with her, his other hand holding Morticia’s wrists up above her head, but he immediately sat frozen like a deer in headlights at the sight of Summer standing there. 

Summer froze once more, as this couldn’t have been real. Her sister’s terrified, tearful face wasn’t real, and Rick hovering over her and touching her chest after he had obviously forced her clothes up wasn’t real.

Summer dropped her ice cream, the bowl clattering to the floor, sending bits of ice cream flying everywhere as she stood dumbstruck by what she was seeing.

It was almost as if time had stopped in that moment as Summer stared at the two of them like that. Nothing was moving, the air itself felt so thick that Summer wondered if she had forgotten to remember to breathe, and as her eyes trailed down to the image of her grandpa straddling her sister, she noted how his belt buckle was undone, his hand very obviously groping Morticia’s chest, and the way he held her hands over her head like that to keep her trapped—there was absolutely no denying what he was planning to do to her.

Her lip quivered as she fought for something to say, the thousands of things that ran through her mind jumbling together until Summer couldn’t even think rationally enough to form out a sentence—a question, a useless question like—just what the fuck was he doing to her sister? What the fuck was he doing in here, forcing himself on her like that.

And when it felt like time stopped for a moment, Summer’s brain running at full speed with trying to process all that she was seeing and thinking, everything suddenly happened in fast motion. As she stood standing there dumbfounded, Rick immediately pulled back off Morticia, releasing her wrists and pulling his shirt over down his pants as if to hide the obvious tent he’d been pitching and the way his belt hung loosely around his hips. Morticia too moved faster than Summer had ever seen her, reaching up to yank her shirt back down and hide her decency before she shot up in bed, her face a deep shade of red.

None of them said anything for what felt like ages, as they all stood around staring, Morticia just giving Summer a horrified, frozen stare. Her face was so pleading, so desperate, Summer had never, ever seen her sister like this before, and it made her chest hurt seeing this kind of expression on her face.

When nobody said anything for a long time, it was Rick who broke the ice, and the sound of his voice caused a feeling to well in Summer she had never before experienced around him. “Hey, Sum Sum, what are you doing home so early, huh? How was school?”

That.

Fucking nonchalant playing it cool type of voice he always used, as if he was talking down to her. Maybe he saw it as trying to gently make out like this situation wasn’t as bad as Summer thought it was.

But.

The way he looked at her, flat out ignoring Morticia who still had a horrified look on her face—Summer could only hear his condescending tone and outrageous attempts at trying to make out like he hadn’t just been forcing himself onto her sister.

She took a step back, eyes glued to Rick who was giving her the most infuriating smile she never thought possible. It would have elated her to see him smile at her like that any other time, as she knew she pined for his attention probably more than even her mother, but—

Summer just felt angry and betrayed. Angry that he had done this to her sister and—

A horrible, awful feeling that he had betrayed _her_. Not just Morticia, but Summer as well.

Her eyes glanced over to Morticia who had begun to wring her shirt in and out, wrinkling it to hell and back. There was no mistaking the feeling inside of her in that moment when she saw her sister’s face like that. Yes, there was anger at Rick for doing this to her, there was a need to throw herself across the room, wrap her arms around her sister, and protect her from him, there was the voice screaming at her in the back of her mind to fucking do something—act and protect her—but—

It was all overshadowed by the thought of herself lying on the bed instead. Summer wanted to picture herself lying down, splayed out before him as Rick went at her, tearing her clothes off and forcing himself onto her.

Why…had it been Morticia? Why was it always, _always_ Morticia? Why did he always take her on adventures with him and dote on her, and treat her like she was so fucking special when--

Sweat accumulated at the base of her neck, and her palms were sweaty as she took another step back out of the room.

When Summer had been the one who wished he would look at her that way. That was fucking crazy, because she had never once thought of herself as having a…thing for him like that. But after witnessing what he’d just done, something snapped, something horrible and primal that Summer knew had always been there from the start, even though she ignored it and told herself that was just obsessive thoughts.

She was jealous.

Jealous of Morticia.

Jealous that Rick always gave her attention like that, took her around space and back, probably doted on her even more when he wasn’t around the rest of the family to see how he truly acted—Summer was actually fucking jealous that Rick had chosen to come onto Morticia like that, instead of her.

It was always Morticia.

And she glared back over at Rick, who had held his hands up in a gesture that he usually used to calm down Beth when she got heated at him. It was that unassuming pose that he had control over the situation and had the power to diffuse it. He was about to hit her with some bullshit story about how it wasn’t what it looked like. Summer just walked in at an awkward time—she didn’t really see what she thought she saw. Now you’re probably tired, right? And then he would probably pull out a ray gun and shoot her with it.

Before he could even get his first word out, his mouth opening to begin hitting her with excuses, Summer turned heel and dashed down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the kitchen. She didn’t care for the screams that sounded behind her, one of them being Morticia’s desperate voice, whose cries reached her all the way to the kitchen, even when she rushed over next to the fridge and grabbed the cordless phone off of the counter. Her hands shook so hard that she almost dropped the receiver, but she pressed the speed dial button despite it, hearing the dial tone echo from the other end.

Mom never picked up when she called her from her cell phone. They agreed that if something important ever came up, Summer would call the office from the house phone. All of their emergency contacts were written on a piece of paper on top of the phone in case something ever happened.

With the phone still ringing, Summer trying to catch her breath and figure out what the fuck she was going to tell her mother when she picked up the call, a pair of hands suddenly wrenched her arm away so hard, she dropped the phone that clattered to the kitchen floor.

Morticia clung to her arm, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes bloodshot from crying, and she gripped Summer’s arm so hard, that her nails dug into her, causing her to flinch.

“Get off, Morti! I’m calling Mom!” She pushed at her, trying to reach down to the floor where she could still hear the ring tone going off.

“D-d-don’t tell Mom!” Her voice was hysteric, if not evident by the fact she was practically climbing Summer right now, her eyes glued to hers, her nails only digging further into her arm until Summer was actually hissing out through her teeth in pain.

“Of course, I’m telling Mom, what the fuck else am I supposed to do?!” Again, she pushed at her sister to throw her off, but Morticia was stuck to her and refused to move. How she had this much strength in her, Summer didn’t know, but she never took her sister as someone this strong enough to stop her from moving like she was.

“ _Please! Please_ , Summer, d-don’t tell them!” Her voice choked on her words as she began sobbing again, and Summer could do nothing as the dial tone from the phone below her beeped, the robotic voice asking her to leave a message and someone will get back to her.

She stood trapped in her position, with Morticia clinging to her arm, refusing to budge even as she struggled to think of what to say. She didn’t know what to say. Why in the fucking hell would Morticia stop her from doing this? Didn’t she want Mom and Dad involved? Didn’t she want them to call out Rick on this and—fucking, get rid of him or something? Didn’t she want to be saved?

Unless, Summer really _had_ misread that situation and her sister was…consenting to this? Just how long had they been sneaking around doing shit like this? Were all those ‘adventures’ really romantic rendezvous to get away from the house? Were all those times Rick pulled her away from school, pulled her away from the house, and even insisted she drop out of school to study under him because—

They were just looking for an excuse to have sex?

Summer’s stomach coiled with an unpleasant feeling, like she had just downed a gallon of sour milk, as Morticia continued to cling to her, having cut the circulation off her arm at this point, and sobbed into her shirt, her face never once leaving that deep shade of red the moment Summer caught them in the act like that.

“Morti…” Her voice was low now, her body strangely tense, but not shaking anymore as she spoke to her sister who was still crying into her. “We _have_ to tell Mom… You weren’t—you didn’t… _want_ that, right?”

The phone on the floor at her feet beeped as the message machine ended, the dull monotone buzz of the dial tone lay muffled below them, and Morticia looked up at her before tears pooled from her eyes again, creating streaks down her face.

“M-Mom will think I’m—I’m—that I’m d-disgusting…” Her face only reddened more with shame as she said so, before Morticia lowered her head again, crying into Summer’s shirt. Her grip around her arm loosened a little, where Summer was starting to feel that weird tingling sensation from having her arm cut off like that.

She looked down at her for a moment, at how miserable her voice sounded, how pale and shaky her hands were, how every sob that came from her seemed to consume her so much that she was shaking her whole body from it, pleading, begging, begging with every ounce of her being for Summer to please, please listen to her.

Summer swallowed, wrapping her free arm around her sister and pulling her close, until she released her to grab at her shirt, crying into Summer’s front.

No goddamn way she asked for this to happen. No goddamn way her shy and socially awkward sister ever asked Rick to do this to her. There was no fucking way she had ever consented to… _this_.

“You aren’t disgusting, Morti. Mom will understand, too. You don’t have to be scared of her abandoning you, just because she lets Grampa get away with his stupid bullshit. She would put her foot down for this.”

Morticia only clung to her tighter, her voice becoming smaller with each sound she uttered. “Pl-please don’t tell her.”

Summer pulled her closer, trying to soothe the way she had started shaking uncontrollably. As she stood there holding her sobbing sister in the kitchen, Rick appeared from the doorway, clutching something in his hand and appearing out of breath. Whether it was from physical exertion or because he was scared, Summer didn’t know.

He gave her that stupidly innocent smile once again. “Heeey, Sum Sum~” That fucking fake singsong way he said her nickname made Summer’s insides churn. She just felt the urge to slap him. “Why don’t you come with me real quick?” A quick glance at Morticia in her arms, and he gave her a lopsided smile. “We should—probably—probably give Morti some space, huh?” The vaguely gun-shaped object he had clutched in his hands twitched as though he were about to accidentally pull the trigger, but he was forcing himself to remain calm.

Summer knew he was going to try and erase her memories that she ever walked in on them doing that. If he did that, then—

There really wouldn’t be much hope of helping her sister.

If it weren’t for Morticia clinging to her like this, Summer knew he wouldn’t have hesitated to pull the trigger and sap her memories just like that. She hated thinking of the idea that she was using her as a human shield, because she knew Rick wouldn’t fire the gun if Morticia was there.

Of course, he wouldn’t want her to forget she was supposed to be in a fucked up relationship with him, right? Summer wasn’t _fucking stupid_. She felt insulted that he even bothered to continue to talk to her like she was a fucking child who didn’t know anything rather than face her head on and tell her what his intentions were, and she glared up at him, refusing to let go of Morticia who continued to quietly sob into her. It wasn’t that hard to figure out what he was planning to do, but she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity.

“Morti.” She spoke down at her shaking sister, still hugging onto her like Rick would wrench her from her grip any minute, and she rubbed soothing circles onto her back. “I’m not going to tell Mom.”

Her eyes never left Rick’s, who blinked in stiffened surprise, and she felt Morticia stir beneath her before she lifted her head once again, her eyes so bloodshot that it looked like all she’d been doing the entire day was crying.

“Y-you won’t?” There was a sliver of hope in her tone, and Summer, eyes still locked with Rick’s, smiled.

“Rick would just erase Mom’s memories if she ever found out, right? So really, what’s the point of going through all this trouble? It’s not like it matters whether she finds out or not.” She gave him a hard stare, watching as that fake expression he’d been pulling slowly faded away, until he was frowning at her. “Right, Grampa?”

He continued to frown, finger pressed right to the trigger. With one jerk of his arm, he could simply do away with her and make her forget this entire afternoon even happened. In one fell swoop, he would be back to sneaking around the house, stepping on eggshells, and whisking Morticia away to alien planets to do whatever the fuck it was that he did to her without having to worry about someone walking in on them.

Maybe he even wanted this to happen. Why be so careless? It was only a matter of time before someone found out. And maybe he even wanted that. Summer may have had more of a backbone than her sister and wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, but that didn’t mean that her grandpa didn’t do some goddamn confusing ass things even she had a hard time wrapping her head around.

She knew the moment she stopped hugging Morticia, Rick would raise the gun and that would be it. Summer would be back to her mediocre life, texting her friends, complaining about high school, and thinking her sister was so lucky to be getting all this attention from Grampa.

But, he didn’t shoot her. Instead, he stiffened, deflating a little as though she had backed him into a corner. Maybe he also realized how pointless all of this drama was. Maybe he knew she had a point that even if Mom found out, there would be absolutely no consequences to his actions.

Maybe she peaked his interested, and he refused to shoot her on the grounds that Summer had called him out on his bullshit for once. Nobody else was going to. It may as well be her.

He rolled his eyes then, his posture somewhat relaxed until Summer was pretty sure he wasn’t going to fire at her anymore. She still clung to Morticia as insurance, just in case he changed his mind and decided that if she remembered this, then that ran with a bit of risk. Maybe something could actually have risk for him if he didn’t shoot her.

“Whatever.” His tone was so dismissive, it made Summer freeze in the spot for a moment, watching as he pulled his coat out, stuffing the gun into a large pocket underneath before he turned and disappeared from the kitchen.

It was almost as if he hadn’t actually left. The only sound in the room was the dial tone of the phone that still rested on the floor, and Morticia’s quiet sniffling. The air was thick with the tension that had suddenly disappeared.

When it felt as if hours had passed them by, Morticia suddenly spoke, her voice hoarse from crying, but no longer hysteric. Her voice was so quiet, Summer could barely hear her. “Y-you won’t tell Mom?”

Summer gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I won’t tell Mom.”

“B-but what do I do if he--” She choked on her words, unable to finish her sentence and Summer ran her fingers through her long wavy hair.

“I won’t let him. Don’t worry, Morti.” She pulled her sister in close, hoping that with the feeling of her arms wrapped around her that Morticia felt safe in her embrace. “I won’t let Grampa touch you ever again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i appreciate all the comments it means a lot ;-; 
> 
> also this isn't some big planned out fic or anything it's just something i'm writing in spare time. i had a gross thought and i just want to write something gross lol so that's all it is :) it could be 4 chapters or 10 idek but i'll just keep writing until i get bored 
> 
> thanks again for the support! <3

Dreams were usually magical nonsensical adventures where you’re able to fly and do something embarrassing in public that you don’t normally do in real life. Sometimes dreams were awful gut wrenching things that made you wake up in a cold sweat and be thankful that it wasn’t real, even though it felt real to you.

Summer lie in bed, eyes wide open and staring at her ceiling as she tried to process if all that had really happened was a dream or not. For some reason, it didn’t feel real, not real in the way she was certain it had actually happened. Like going to school for instance, she knew that was real, because she was certain she had sat her ass down in her desk all day long and written notes like a good student was supposed to do, and she knew it was real when she came home, picked up her ice cream, and planned to go chow down before doing anything else.

That was all real.

But.

The images of Rick hovering over her sister like that, one hand holding her wrists above her head, and the other fighting her shirt off her as he grabbed at her chest—that was a dream, right?

There was no way Summer stumbled upon a secret relationship her grandfather and little sister were having behind everyone’s backs, right?

The longer she stayed in bed, staring off into space and occasionally pinching herself to see if she was still awake, the more the thoughts consumed her. The way Morticia clung to her arm and begged her, fucking _begged her_ , not to tell their mother, even though this was something Mom needed to know. She was supposed to be the good big sister and tell off Rick for having the fucking gall to touch her sister like that—especially in the goddamn _house_! Isn’t that something a fucked up crazy person would do, and despite how both crazy and yet not crazy she knew her grandpa was, if he was so determined to keep this a secret without having to worry about someone walking in on them, wouldn’t he just take Morticia away to another planet and do whatever it is there?

Why the house?

Why in her bedroom?

Why with the threat that anything— _fucking anything_ , could happen?

Because—

Summer let out a long sigh. Because she knew Rick could do anything. If someone found out, he would erase their memories, and go on like nothing happened. He didn’t take precautions because there was no need to take precautions in a world where he could basically play God if he wanted. And he did.

Summer wasn’t so naïve she didn’t realize why he was doing this. Any other person who molested their own family like that would do it knowing there was a fear of getting caught and would take the necessary precautions.

Kidnapping, threats, maybe taking them away to a faraway place where nobody would know. That’s what a ‘ _regular’_ person would do. Right? Rick wasn’t a regular person. He had tools to combat this with. He had the power to take advantage of anybody in this fucking house that he wanted to.

And nobody would ever know about it.

He probably got off to the fake consequences of it. Summer had no doubt in her mind that Rick touched her sister in this house, holding that over her head as a means to keep her quiet and obedient. If he did that, Morticia wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for having someone walk in on them like that, because she, unlike Rick, feared those meaningless consequences.

And Summer happened to be the one to catch them.

It wasn’t Mom. It wasn’t Dad. It was Summer.

If it was her mother who walked in on them, Summer could envision Rick erasing her memories without a second thought. Maybe drama would happen, maybe there would be screaming and crying and the like, but ultimately, if Mom was the one left with those memories, Rick had a threat to deal with then. Because any normal mother upon finding out her father tried to rape her daughter would kick him out of the house. If Beth didn’t murder him first.

Beth wasn’t the perfect mother, and she frequently got drunk all the time, and she licked Rick’s ass way more than was healthy for a daughter to do, but Summer knew deep down, even Mom wouldn’t let him get away with that. Her abandonment issues weren’t so prominent she would let him hurt her family.

And yet, here Summer was, with this knowledge, the scene replaying over and over, until she got a headache from it, and _still_ , she was kicking herself for not telling her mother about what happened. Even though she knew if she had done that, Rick would erase both their memories and continue on as if nothing happened. With Summer here and knowing what she did, there was a kink in the formula. She was like a pebble caught in the bottom of a shoe. Not a problem just yet, but something for Rick to think about.

If she told Mom, then Morticia would have to live with those actions of what would unfold if a fight were to break out over this, only to be swept under the rug. Summer still vowed she wasn’t going to let Rick take advantage of her sister like that ever again, but she still couldn’t really figure out why he chose to leave her like this.

If he knew it was all pointless, then why not just erase her memories and go back to doing what he did with no repercussions, no fights, no nothing?

Summer’s throat tightened at the thought.

Was he doing this on purpose? Was he testing her, to see what she would do, if she would do the right thing and go to Mom, like she was supposed to do, and what she should have done from the beginning?

In an instant, Summer had thrown herself from bed and stood on her feet, her heart racing at the thought of just doing that. Going right down there to Mom now and spilling her guts to her. Tell her what Rick was doing to her daughter and seeing how she reacted.

Morticia’s fear was that Mom would blame her, Summer knew that, but that aching in her chest wished she could show Morticia that her family wouldn’t abandon her over something like this. They—Summer, wanted to help her.

Nobody was going to blame her for this. Rick was at fault for this, not Morticia. She didn’t deserve to be subjected to this bullshit like this.

With the heat in her face and the aching in her chest, Summer found herself storming out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and into the living room where Mom and Dad were watching tv and chatting about something. The sight of her caused them to look up from whatever it was they were talking about and focus on her. Mom spoke first. “Honey, what--”

But Summer cut her off. “Mom, I have to talk to you.”

Mom’s face dropped in seriousness at the urgency of Summer’s words. “What’s wrong?”

“I--” She cut herself off, her face hot and red, her brain screaming at her that she needed to be the responsible sibling and tell her mother what was going on. For Morticia’s sake. For her safety, because—

What did Summer really think she was going to do trying to protect Morticia like this?

Dad leaned over onto the couch, also staring at Summer in anticipation, worry starting to crease on his forehead.

Summer stammered as she tried to figure out a way to say this. “I-I want to talk about Morti.”

“What about her?” The question wasn’t said by either her mom or her dad, but Rick who rounded the corner right at that moment, as though he knew what was about to happen, as though he knew what Summer intended to do right now, and he stared at her with an expression Summer couldn’t even make sense of.

The only way she could describe it was blank. Like someone waiting for the other person to make a move first and then react accordingly. He was waiting for her to spill the beans to her parents before he reached into his coat pocket and erased everyone’s memories.

Summer glared at him, not intimidated by him. He could just do it right now. And Summer, though sweat was accumulating at the base of her neck, knew the next sentence she said would determine whether or not he did this, she also knew that erasing her memories would only benefit him, and not her. If her goal now was to do the right thing and save her sister by telling her parents, like a good sister was _supposed to do_ , then it would be stupid on her part.

Telling Mom and Dad this did absolutely nothing to benefit anybody.

Rick’s eyes didn’t blink the whole time he stared at her, waiting for her to move. Always being where he needed to be, like an omnipresent force, and Summer wondered then and there if he bugged the house to keep tabs on everybody all the time. He certainly had the means to do something fucked up like that.

But.

Summer let out a quiet sigh to calm herself down, knowing she’d acted rashly coming down to do this. The fuck did she think would happen telling Mom her dad was a fucking pervert? Nobody would be able to stop him with force. Summer couldn’t stop him with force.

She gritted her teeth, looking back over at Mom and Dad who continued to look at her with worried expressions the longer she fumbled over her words.

“I-I was just worried that she was, um, she seemed upset about something yesterday.”

Rick narrowed his eyes at her, to which Summer ignored. If he chose to do so, everyone’s memory would be wiped out right here. Was that too conspicuous of a thing to say?

“Really?” Mom shrugged, looking over at Dad to clarify, but he only shrugged as well. “I haven’t noticed her acting unusual. Did she say something to you?”

Rick glared across at her, a stare that Summer, even though her focus wasn’t on him, could feel as though it were something physically attacking her right now. But, she was calm. She was rational. Calm and rational. “No. I was just worried about her.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you, honey.” Neither her mom nor her dad were looking at her like Summer was about to tell them the pet dog just died, but Mom was smiling over at Dad as if to say ‘look how cute that is’, and Summer felt like she just betrayed her sister by doing this.

She was supposed to be responsible to rat him out. If he hadn’t come bursting into the room when he did, she would have.

Summer fucking would have told them _everything_.

But, she clenched her fists, biting at her lip and glared over at him again, but he had turned away from her, and fiddled with the side of his coat sleeve as if dusting off lint. The sight of him acting so unassuming and nonchalant, it made her blood boil even more.

Who the fuck did he think he was? He had the nerve to touch her sister, just to act like he owned the fucking place like this. Summer couldn’t really believe she used to idolize him the way she did, when he turned out to be a power maniac obsessed with controlling his family and manipulating them into thinking he was some hotshot big deal.

How naïve she’d been.

“Hey, Sum Sum, you wanna help me in the—in the garage, sweetie?”

The lack of emotion in his voice threw her off, but his request did something even more. It was that moment, that small moment when he looked up at her, his expression still blank, Mom and Dad having gone back to chatting with each other like nothing had happened, but only Summer saw the way he looked at her. Only Summer saw the flash in his eyes, that knowing look.

And she didn’t dare fucking back down from him. “Sure, Grampa.” She shot him a fake smile before gliding over to him and seeing herself into the garage before he could say anything else. Like hell she would let him intimidate her. Like fuck she was going to let him do whatever it was he undoubtedly planned to do. Like erase her memories.

Summer wasn’t about to back down from him and cower like he probably expected her to. He was so fucking used to Morticia bending over backwards at him out of fear, but Summer wasn’t her sister. She wasn’t going to let him push her around and threaten her. And she wasn’t scared of him.

The garage door closed behind her with a small click before she turned to face Rick who glared over at her again. “Th-the fuck you think you’re doing, huh?”

“Gee, I don’t know, _Grampa_ , what the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” It was never a good idea to get into a fight with Rick, who always made damn sure he won, but Summer could feel her temper flare the longer she stood there staring at him. He was always so adamant about being right, she knew he hated, fucking _hated_ being called out on his bullshit. If Rick wasn’t in control, then he would fucking die.

“I could shoot you with the—with the—f-fucking memory gun _just like that_ , you know?” He opened his coat pocket to emphasize, but Summer merely crossed her arms and continued to glare at him. “Y-you’ve sure got a—you think Beth of all people is going to care what happens to Morti?”

“Of fucking _course_ I do. You think just because you’ve got Mom wrapped around your finger that she’s going to let you get away with this?”

Rick looked at her with a lidded expression, his forehead crinkled with his glare. “Beth doesn’t give a shit what I do.”

“She would kick your ass and you know it.” Summer clenched her fists until she was sure her nails had dug into her palms. “Why do you keep that memory gun on you all the time? You know the moment you slip up, you can just let everyone forget about it, because you’ve got your fucking security blanket. If you were actually scared of consequences, you wouldn’t do all this.”

Rick’s frown lowered. “You sure talk some shit for someone who used to worship me.”

Summer’s anger peaked, and she almost screamed at him. “That was before I knew you raped my sister, you _fucking pervert_!”

“I didn’t fucking touch her!” Now he was advancing on her, hands balled into fists as well, to which Summer readied her stance in case he decided to come at her. She wasn’t scared to fight him, no matter who he was. She wasn’t letting him intimidate her and it was making him angrier and angrier.

“ARE YOU _THAT_ INSANE?!” Then what the fuck did she walk into earlier that day? What the fuck did he call pushing Morticia down onto the bed and forcibly trying to remove her shirt? Just what the fuck did he call that then?

At the sight of Summer baring her teeth at him like an animal, her fists raised and ready to go at him, Rick rolled his eyes at her outburst before he fell back to lean against the wall, crossing his arms and moving his gaze to the floor. “I never fucked her. You can ask her yourself if you want to.”

“You’re a fucking liar.”

“I _didn’t_.” He looked up at her once again through a lidded expression, but somewhat indifferent this time. “She won’t let me.”

“The fuck do you mean she won’t _let you_?” That was the stupidest thing Summer ever heard. She had no doubt he raped her, he couldn’t have fucking snuck around this entire time without actually doing something to her. As evident by what she walked into, and what she heard, the way Morticia said she didn’t want to do this in the house, and wanted him to lay off, and—

She very clearly remembered what Rick said, because that’s what caused her feet to fly forward and burst through the bedroom door.

_‘It’s not like I’ve put my cock in you yet.’_

Rick rolled his eyes as he let out a purposefully annoyed sigh and shifted in his position. “Just what I said. The most I’ve ever done to Morti is grab her tits, okay?”

That was a lie. It had to be a lie. That was a fucking lie. Summer shook her head, clearly remembering how he had been unbuttoning his pants when she burst through the door. There was no way he wasn’t planning to fuck her. And was his statement supposed to make her feel better? The fuck, the most he’d done is grab her tits, Summer didn’t believe that for a goddamn second.

She glared back at him. “Even if that’s true, you think that’s better? You’re so high up on your fucking high horse you think you haven’t done anything wrong just because you touched her tits? The fuck is wrong with you? Only insane people think things like that. Only crazy fucking assholes think they’re okay for touching _their granddaughter’s tits_. You can’t possibly think she likes that, do you? Are you hoping Morti is gonna fall head over heels for you and suck your dick or what?”

Rick shrugged. “That’d be nice.”

Summer felt light-headed at his statement. The way he so openly admitted that made the blood rush from her head all at once and she thought she was going to pass out as she staggered only to regain her footing and could only look at him in horror, at the way he still so casually stood there, his expression mostly blank, if not mildly annoyed. “H-how can you say that?”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re so—so fucking upset about, Summer. I didn’t have sex with your sister, I didn’t take her off planet and fuck her, I didn’t do any of this shit you’re accusing me of.”

That. _Did not_. Excuse anything—

Summer felt dizzy as she fought to gain control of this feeling that hung over her head like mist and spit back at him. “Th-then what the fuck do you call what happened earlier? What was that, huh? You were forcing yourself on her.”

“I didn’t force--” Rick pushed himself off the wall at that point, now full on arguing back with her, but he suddenly cut himself off, and looked down to the floor. “Y-you don’t get it.”

What didn’t she _get_? This was so plain and simple, it was hurting her head how much Rick just wasn’t getting it. How could he stand there and try to make out like nothing he did to her sister was, you know—fucking wrong? How could he sit there and try and justify it just because he claimed he never had sex with her? That didn’t automatically abolish him of any wrongdoing.

This was wrong.

He was wrong.

He was wrong, wrong, wrong, fucking insane, and wrong.

And then—just as Summer was about to yell at him again how insane he was, how he was a fucking creep, she saw it. That tiny twitch his forehead did when he looked down to the floor, and the…

Blush?

On his face.

She almost passed out again, her head swimming with a million thoughts at once, and she knew she was probably in shock at what she was seeing. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit, holy goddamn fucking shit.

Was Rick…in love with her sister?

That was insane, that was fucking insane, and there was no way Summer was reading this right. His face was red because he was angry, even though he was also calm and weirdly collected right now, even in the face of Summer’s accusations, but—there was no way this was real life right now. Summer was having some long winded super detailed nightmare that she wasn’t waking up from.

There was no way he had feelings for Morticia like that. No fucking way Rick of all people, the only person Summer knew who went out of his way _not_ to show affection to anybody—had a crush on Morticia.

“Y-you…” And she stopped, her first instinct being to call him out for it. Call him gross and a pervert again, call him insane, but Summer just.

Her heart ached instead. A horrible feeling entered her stomach until she wanted to purge and vomit, but instead she just felt empty. Empty and like someone had zapped all the anger from her in that moment, that one moment she was supposed to be the good sister and protect Morticia from him.

She ached all over. She wanted to grab his arms and shake him, scream at him, why would he be in love with Morticia? Why would he go after someone who was obviously not interested in him, because she was too busy fawning over another girl in high school. Why would he fall for someone like Morticia, someone who was meek and passive and shy and who Summer knew would never, ever agree to something like that?

She just—she just wished for once, _for fucking once_ , that Rick would give her that same amount of attention. He never ever gave a shit about her. It was always Morticia. Morticia went on the adventures, Morticia helped him out in the garage, Morticia got pulled away from the couch during movie night to go with him.

He always picked her.

Not once did he seem to give two shits that Summer existed there too. Summer could be useful to him. Summer could go out for once and help him when he needed it.

Summer could—

Try not to cry as she realized she was standing there in the garage, her fists now shaking, lowered, her whole body starting to cave inward as she realized that it wasn’t just Rick who was insane. She was insane too, for wishing he would have come to her room in the middle of the night instead. She wished he would have climbed into bed with her, come onto _her,_ fucking forced her clothes off, because Summer knew. She knew if he ever did that, she wouldn’t fight him. She might have denied it to herself before, when she thought maybe it was a silly high school crush she harbored herself, and it wasn’t unusual to look up to someone who was smarter and better, but to finally admit to herself she had a crush on her grandpa—she couldn’t help but stand there in the garage, fighting back tears, and hating Morticia.

She hated her for stealing his attention. She hated her for always being the golden child who got picked to go run around with him. She hated that her, of all people, the most shy and passive person she knew, made him fall in love with her.

Summer bit her lip until the blood almost came out. And she could feel a new sense of anger take hold of her, when she could only think how lucky Morticia was to get this, even though she knew she would never want it.

Her mouth quivered when she spoke to him again. “Y-you know Morti would never fucking want you.”

He looked up then, his expression finally moving from that insufferable blank stare he’d been wearing this whole time, and she saw him actually snap his eyes open.

She knew then it was true. His reaction, the way he looked at her, there was no way Summer hadn’t hit the nail on the head. He was in love with her sister.

“Sh-she’s got her eyes on that Jessica girl. The fuck makes you think she’ll ever want a fucking old fart like you drooling all over her like that, huh? You really think Morti is gonna go for you and let you fuck her?” She laughed. A horrible, forced fake laugh, but Summer’s chest was constricting. Her chest ached so much, like someone had wrapped something around her and was pulling where she couldn’t breathe. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, old man.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room then. One in which Rick just stayed against the wall and said nothing, his expression unreadable once again as Summer couldn’t figure out if he was mad by what she said, or actually upset, or maybe he didn’t care either way. But, she was fuming. She was ready to burst into tears and wished she could have grabbed his coat front and wrung him back and forth and ask him why. Why did he dote on Morticia like that? Why was he going after her when she wasn’t interested? Why was he always showering her with attention she obviously didn’t want?

At her words, Rick finally rolled his eyes, and mumbled, “Whatever,” before turning his back on her, his hand reaching out to grab hold of the door handle where he planned to go back into the house, but—

Summer didn’t know why she did this. Why she suddenly flung herself forward, before he could open that door, and grabbed hold of the back of his coat just as he gripped hold of the door handle. “Wait!” And her face was hot. Her whole body was hot then, her hands shaking as she held onto him.

He stopped, hand frozen on the door knob and Summer almost felt like she was possessed in that moment, maybe full of compulsion to tell him what she really thought, the anger from before controlling her and making her act irrationally.

All Summer knew was that she didn’t really hate her sister for this. There was no way she could actually hate her sister for this, because it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t Morticia’s fault.

“I-if you want…” Her mouth quivered, and her words were shaking with every syllable that came out. No longer was she the confident determined person who first walked into this room with him, who planned to stand up to him and tell him off for daring to hurt her sister. She wasn’t the perfect big sister who took care of her younger sibling, but now she was just.

Her hands shook as she fought for the words to force themselves out.

She was just fucking pathetic.

“Y-you can, um. C-come to my room s-sometime.” The moment those words left her mouth, Rick whipped around at her, glaring at her only for a split second before yanking his coat out of her hands.

“Get the _fuck_ off me,” was the last thing he said before wrenching open the door and slamming it shut behind him, leaving Summer alone in the garage.

Her hand was still held out from where she grabbed him, no longer shaking with nerves and her compulsion to cry out for him and keep him from leaving her, but now frozen in midair as his words cut through her. Her knees shook and knocked together when the tears that had stagnated earlier finally fell, and Summer crumpled to the ground when her legs gave out.

Her face was hot, and she should have felt embarrassed she had actually said that to him—but she felt empty. The tears fell and wouldn’t stop, until she was almost sobbing, and all she did for what felt like hours was sit down on the floor and cry. Cry because her grandpa had rejected her.

She really was pathetic.


	3. Chapter 3

Just what was this feeling welling up inside of her? The more the days passed by, flying by at this point, the longer she found herself stopping, staring off into space, realizing more and more that her stomach was twisting up into knots, causing her to bend at her knees and resist the urge to moan when she did so.

Because it had been two weeks.

Two solid weeks she had faced Rick in the garage and said those absolutely embarrassing— _horrible_ things to him. Two weeks of avoided eye contact when she found herself in the same room with him. Two weeks of silence from his end, even though Summer tried the ever-popular tactic of staring at him until he noticed her, even if that attention was an accidental glance on his part.

There was no denying Rick was avoiding her at all costs since then. He even appeared to be avoiding Morticia, as Summer noticed she had backed off coming into her room late at night to sleep with her. God, she felt like such an ass that she had once rolled her eyes and thought her sister was childish for doing something like that. And the whole time it was just because Morticia didn’t want to be alone in her room in case Rick decided to get drunk and feel her up that night.

Summer shivered at the thought. It was fucking sickening to think of, even after all this time had passed, that she had walked onto her grandpa fondling her little sister like that. Each time that stupid thought entered her mind, she had to recoil and resist the urge to physically cringe at it. It wasn’t so much Rick’s disgusting hands all on her sister, but the position he had her in. With his grip on her wrists, holding them above her head as he unbuckled his pants—and Morticia’s _face_.

Her horrified face. That face Summer couldn’t get out of her head for the life of her. The sight of her sister being held down like that, the unadulterated horror that shown in her eyes was haunting Summer’s nightmares, and her waking life as well.

But.

For some reason, the fact that Rick was ignoring her seemed to be creating a different feeling, one she wasn’t proud of at all.

Because, every time she managed to catch him in the same room with her, seeing Rick turn heel and immediately exit, not even bothering to do what he came into the room for anymore, made Summer’s temper flare. He was avoiding her like she had the fucking plague or something. She knew it was because of what she said to him back in the garage, but once the initial humiliation of that incident started to fade away, it gave way to a new feeling.

The feeling Summer couldn’t purge herself of, no matter what she did.

Fucking.

 _Rage_.

A quiet rage was slowly building inside of her, consuming her thoughts throughout the day, until she couldn’t even focus in school anymore. A rage that kept her up at night, when she used to be so alert and attentive to Morticia, making sure to spring into action the second she caught wind of Rick entering her room, was now all but gone. Summer lay in bed at night, seething beneath her blanket, staring up at the darkened ceiling, her hair splayed around her, and she seethed and seethed.

It was more or less over the fact Rick rejected her. In some kind of massively fucked up and twisted way—Summer kind of… _understood_ the feeling of getting rejected from someone you knew you weren’t allowed to be with. Maybe this was what Rick felt when Morticia pushed him away.

That was so fucked up, but Summer couldn’t help it.

She sat up in bed, her forehead caked with sweat at the thoughts swarming around her head like angry bees. So, so loud, and yet, she could do nothing to calm herself down. She’d tried seeking him out and trying to confront him again, but every time she so much as caught a glance of him, he headed the other direction and was gone just as fast as she’d caught sight of him.

So, ever since this new feeling of rage began to engulf her to the point Summer was almost physically ill with it, she had been staying up later and later every night. Waiting, watching, listening for that moment Rick would inevitably slip up and she’d hear him sneak down the hallway to Morticia’s room.

Summer knew just because he had let her off the hook by not erasing her memories that that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to still try and cop a feel with Morticia. She knew he was weak in that sense. And he always thought he was being so smart and sneaky, but—

So was she.

Summer didn’t care about the lost sleep, or the dropping grades the past couple weeks. It didn’t matter a fucking goddamn bit how she performed in school, or how much sleep she lost at night, until black circles were under her eyes, because she was determined.

Determined to catch him when he slipped, and she’d pounce. She’d finally catch him, and she would _not_ let him get away anymore.

The darkness of her room felt comforting in the way she knew she was in her own space, her own time, her own little world. It was a safe zone, knowing she could come back here anytime she wanted to and wind down. The past few days hadn’t felt so nice, though.

With her arm propped up, her chin in her palm, Summer was seated at her desk, her hair having fallen into curls around her shoulder and her gaze directed at her bedroom door. It was well after three in the morning, and normally she would have given in and slept, but after doing this routine for about a week, her body had grown used to it.

But, just because she was used to this didn’t mean the feeling inside of her had disappeared anytime soon. In fact, the more Summer allowed herself to stew in this, allow herself to grow so angry, she felt like ripping down her own door and hunting Rick down until she was screaming and clawing at his face—the more she stewed in this, the more determined she became.

It wasn’t just a passing emotion. She wasn’t just mad at her grandpa enough to let life continue on after this—she was _fucking pissed_. And she was going to let him know _how_ fucking pissed.

About thirty minutes had passed, until the digital clock next to her bed read that it was almost four in the morning—when she heard it.

The small, tiny noise of the floorboards creaking just outside her door, the even smaller sound of socked feet touching against the floor as they crept across the hallway. Normally anyone sleeping wouldn’t have heard this at all, but Summer was awake and alert, and she heard every goddamn noise outside her door that night.

Rick was making his move. This was the first time in two weeks he had attempted to try anything with Morticia—Summer made damn sure of that. But, here he was, having given into his weakness and was attempting to be the absolute creep he was and sneak into Morticia’s room while she was vulnerable and asleep.

He probably thought Summer was fast asleep by this point too. But, the moment she heard those creeping footsteps of his start to fade away from her door, she stood up from her desk, also tiptoeing and making absolutely no noise as she crept her way to the door before opening it.

Holding her breath, trying her hardest not to make a sound, she cracked the door open far enough to see into the hall—and there he was. His back to her, his feet propped up so that he tread on his toes in an effort to be quiet, and his hand outreached toward Morticia’s door handle. He was about to grab the handle, but Summer didn’t waste a second after catching him in the act like this.

Without hesitation, she whispered, but made sure the force was still in her voice as she did so, “Just what the _fuck_ are you doing?”

He must not have heard her sneak across her bedroom and open the door, because he jumped so high in the air, his shoulders bunching up under his neck that he almost rammed into Morticia’s door as he whirled around to face Summer. Any other time, this almost cartoonish reaction would have made her laugh, but she glared at him when he faced her, his expression definitely showing signs he hadn’t expected to be caught. But, when he saw it was Summer who caught him, he immediately relaxed and lowered his gaze to the floor.

For the first time in weeks, he spoke to her, his voice low and hushed so as not to wake anyone. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Summer shrugged, having moved herself completely out of her door and leaned against the wall with her back, her arms folded over in front of her. “Shouldn’t you be jacking yourself off instead of expecting my sister to do it for you?”

Instead of answering, Rick rolled his eyes before turning his back on her, letting out what could only be described as a tired sigh. “Go to bed, Summer.”

She didn’t back down from this weak attempt at disarming her. What the fuck did he take her for? “Sure. When you do.”

“I’m going back, okay?” Now he just sounded like a petulant child getting caught doing something wrong, but he didn’t make a move. Not that Summer expected him to in the first place. He probably thought she would just shrug this off, go to bed, and when he thought she was asleep, he’d continue his little nighttime rendezvous.

“So, go already.” She stood with her arms folded, never once breaking her posture, or dropping her stare from him. It was a few seconds too long that he made no effort to turn and leave, and she noticed him ball his hands into fists before finally turning to her after several silent seconds.

“What do you want from me, huh?”

Was he serious? Summer almost flinched back at the question, the way his lidded eyes stared at her like _she_ was the one being unreasonable here. Was he seriously expecting her to spell this out for him or what? There was no way he didn’t already know the answer, but maybe he just wanted _her_ to say it for him.

So, she did. “The _fuck_ do you think I want, huh? I want you to stop harassing my sister.” This time, she leaned off the wall just far enough that she was leaning forward now, focusing her energy into glaring at him. “What in fuck’s name makes you think this is okay? Did you get crazy at some point? Did going on too many adventures fry your brain to the point you think it’s okay to molest your granddaughter?”

He rolled his eyes, and she didn’t know why, but seeing him dismiss her like that—fucking _pissed_ her off.

She took a step forward, unfolding her arms and glaring at him as she too balled her hands into fists, barely noticing how her nails dug into her palms. “You don’t even care, do you? You don’t even _care_ that what you’re doing is fucked up? That you’ve probably fucked up Morti forever because of this, that she’s going to have to live with the thought her gross perverted grandfather touched her like that? Do you even think that you’ve probably ruined her life?”

“God, you’re so f-fucking dramatic, Summer.” His voice cracked as he spoke, but now he was looking down at the floor away from her, his eyes darting around random spots as he refused to look at her. There was no denying his body language, or the way he shuffled in his spot as he couldn’t look up at her anymore.

Guilt. He was guilty, and he knew it. Summer could see it written all over his face. He knew what he was doing was fucking gross and horrible, but he didn’t care.

“You know I’m right, Rick. You know you’re sick and disgusting, but you can’t admit it.”

Finally, he looked back up at her, that cold, unwavering stare returned, and he straightened his posture before speaking. “ _Fine_. You’re right, I’m a horrible monster for doing this to her. You’re completely, one hundred percent right, Summer. I’m the bad guy, the villain, evil in the flesh, so what do you want me to do about it?”

Hearing him admit that so casually, almost too casually, threw her off, but only for a moment. Summer didn’t dare back down. She knew he couldn’t see it himself, and that his words held no weight to them. He was only spouting that off to satisfy her, but she had some fucking bad news for him.

“That’s not going to cut it, Grampa.” She took a few steps forward, until she was right in his face, until she could have reached out and choked him if she really wanted. “You want your dick sucked so bad, then have it your way.” With those words spoken, Summer reached down without hesitation, her unclenched fist wrapped around her grandpa’s crotch and she squeezed.

She hadn’t really expected him to react, but he did. The moment she dug her nails into him, he blanched backward, face scrunching up as he hissed in pain through his teeth, but at the same time, stiffening as though trying his hardest not to make any noise, and he glared at her, one of his hands coming down to grab hers by the wrist and try and pry her off him. “What the _fuck_ are y-you doing?”

Summer didn’t dare allow him to push her off, and the second he grabbed hold of her, she tightened her grip on him until he hissed through his teeth again. “Just giving you what you want.”

“Do-f-fucking—let go.”

She could see the pain in his face as his knees knobbed together, his palm becoming sweaty around her wrist as he seemed both hesitant to rip her away from him should it cause him more pain, and like he wanted nothing more than to yelp out in pain. “I won’t. I’m going to stand here all night if I have to.”

“Goddammit, Summer—that fucking _hurts_ —”

“ _Good_.” She leaned in closer, making damn sure not to let him pry her hand away. “You deserve every fucking bit of it for hurting Morti.”

“I didn’t _fucking_ —!” For a split second, his voice cracked and he may or may not have intended to raise his voice at her, but before he could even finish his sentence, Summer slapped her opposite palm over his mouth, silencing him.

“Be quiet, Rick. Or do you want Mom finding out about this? Oh, that’s right, you can erase her memory whenever you want, so you don’t even care, do you? Too bad you never thought of erasing Morti’s memories after you molested her. Don’t want your little Barbie doll to forget about you, don’t you?” Not once did Summer allow herself to be intimidated by the way he glared back at her, the gaze so piercing that if it could have been physical, Summer was sure he would have stabbed her with his stare alone. She spoke low and confidently, kind of enjoying the way he started sweating like he was, either from the nerves of what she said, knowing it was true, or from the pain on his crotch from where she dug her nails into him. She didn’t care how bad it hurt him, because the fucking bastard deserved it.

Slow and deliberate, Summer dropped her hand from his mouth, and there were a few uncomfortable moments of silence, before his voice, barely a whisper, crept out. “What do you want, Summer?”

“I’ll give it to you.” Staring, she didn’t dare back down. Not now. Now when she had him right where she wanted him. “You want a cheap fuck from your granddaughter so bad? Then let me do it. You know you’ll never get it out of Morti, so fuck me, Rick. I’ll let you do it.” No backing down now, no hesitation. Summer glared up at him, her mouth curling into a small smile. “Do it. Fuck me, Rick.”

The silence that followed afterward was so tangible, Summer was almost certain it was consuming her. The air felt warm and thick, too thick, too suffocating, as she loosened her grip just ever so gently from between his legs, enough that he wasn’t breaking out in a cold sweat, but his hard stare didn’t waver from her either. In those moments of silence, Summer wondered if he was mulling this over, arguing with himself over whether or not to do it, and she expected him to dismiss her once again.

But.

“Fine.”

The word Summer never thought she would hear. For a split second, she wondered if she hadn’t heard him right, and maybe she was only hallucinating hearing what she wanted to hear, but his gaze lowered for a moment, before he looked back up at her.

“Fine, okay? Now let go.” He shifted uncomfortably, until Summer slowly eased her grip off him, until she let go altogether.

She had gotten him to agree, and honestly, she was beside herself, not knowing what to do now, but she didn’t dare waver. This chance would probably never come again, as she predicted once he did get his cheap thrills out, he would move on to something else to try and stick his dick into. Like aliens or something a little less fucked up than his own family.

God, she was just as bad though.

Quietly, the two of them tip toed back to her bedroom, Summer closing the door as gently as she could when Rick walked in after her, and with each second that passed, she felt her heart speed up, thumping hard in her chest. Saying she was nervous was a bit of an understatement. She hadn’t actually expected him to give into her, thinking he would roll his eyes and make up some excuse to go cowering back to his room—but here he was, standing in her room, not looking at her, but then again, not looking at anything. His gaze was unfocused to the floor.

Summer locked her door before walking past him and seating herself onto her bed. There were butterflies scurrying around the pit of her stomach, and she felt awkward for not really knowing what to expect out of him, but as she leaned back in her seat, he took a few slow steps toward her, before planting himself right in front of her.

And she didn’t expect what came out of his mouth, “So, you want me to eat you out or what?”

It kind of threw her off guard, and she flinched back a little, not even sure why she did so. Well...if she had to be completely honest, yes. She wanted him to, but the way he said it, refusing to make eye contact with her, and almost sounding dejected at best, was turning her off from the idea. Maybe if he had a little more, she didn’t know—enthusiasm? About it? She would’ve said yes and spread her legs.

But instead of responding, she reached out toward the zipper of his pants, not expecting it when he flinched back away from her, probably afraid she was about to grab hold of him again.

“Uhh, what the hell are you doing?”

“Uhh, what does it look like?” She responded the same way he asked—that tone that suggested he was sick and tired of everything. And so was she.

“If I didn’t know any better, I think you were trying to unzip my pants.”

“Brilliant deduction, Grampa. They don’t call you a genius for nothing.” When she reached out again for his pants zipper, Rick reached down and grabbed hold of her wrist.

“Look, I’ll eat you out or whatever it is you want, but I’m not asking you to do anything to me.”

“Oh, I know you aren’t.” She wrenched her hand away from him while staring back up at him, a glare pressing her features. “I told you that you could fuck me, but not before I do something.”

This time, when she went for his zipper, he didn’t object, but she could feel him staring at her from above when she unzipped his pants, yanking his pants around his hips until his underwear was exposed. The butterflies in her stomach were about to make her nauseous, and she didn’t know why. Part of her was excited to do this, but the other part of her—

“I don’t fucking understand you, Summer. Why the _fuck_ do you want to suck my dick so bad?”

The question made her grow hot in the face for a moment as she sat there fumbling with his underwear, but she tried not to let it show in her body language that he’d hit a nerve with her. “I don’t know, Rick, why don’t you tell me why it is you want to fuck Morti so bad?” She tugged his underwear, bunching it around his hips as well, her nausea rearing again as she sat there with her grandpa exposed before her.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then I guess we both have our reasons.” Just before she gripped him in her hand, about to lean forward and start sucking, she was stopped by his palm against her forehead, pushing her back somewhat gently.

And his voice surprised her. He didn’t sound irritated or even angry at her, but there was something almost—tired? About the way he sounded. “I’m not asking you to do this. You don’t have to, Summer. I’d rather you didn’t actually.”

Before she could stop herself, Summer’s voice came out almost shaky, but she made damn sure not to let her voice crack the moment she caught it. “Wh-why? Is it because I’m not Morti? What if I was Morticia, would you want it then, _Grampa_?” There was no denying the hostility in her tone.

He let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Goddammit, Summer. Why can’t you be a regular ass teenager?”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Are you really going t-to suck my dick? Do you really want it that bad?”

She looked up at him, glaring this time, her grip on his cock not quite squeezing for the purpose of hurting him, but in desperation. “ _Yes_. I want to, Rick.”

He rolled his eyes, and the dismissal only fueled her even more to do this. “Fine, whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Without waiting for him to try and stop her again, Summer bent back over him, wasting not one second before putting her entire mouth over him. When he made the tiniest, but very obvious grunting noise above her, Summer pushed herself as far down over him as she could without outright gagging. Slowly, very slowly, she began to bob her head up and down, trying to be gentle, but deliberate.

A few awkward, silent moments were spent doing this, Summer feeling rather stupid when Rick wasn’t reacting quite the way she would’ve liked. She didn’t really know _what_ she expected, maybe for him to start moaning and pulling on her hair or something, but he stood stationary, not giving her any direction on whether or not he wanted her to go faster, or if it even felt good.

She gripped the edge of his pants to steady herself as she forced himself into her mouth as far back as she could stand, her gag reflex almost triggering every time she did so, but she didn’t dare. There was no way she was going to make a fool of herself and choke on him. She would just have to judge for herself whether or not it was feeling good. He would get hard before long, and then she’d know if it was good to keep going or not.

At some point, her jaw began to ache, and Summer forced herself to pull him out, gripping the base of his cock as she caught her breath. Even after all that, he wasn’t hard at all. She heard the faint sound of him sigh above her, once again pushing at her gently to move her away, but she shook her head. “No, the position is all wrong. Here.” Without waiting for him to stop her, she stood from the bed, gripping him by the shoulders and whirling him around, pushing him down onto the bed so that she was standing in front of him now.

That’s right, he was just uncomfortable from standing like that. She was dumb to think this was how this worked. She was supposed to be on her knees in front of him doing this, then it would actually feel good.

“Summer—”

“It’ll feel good this time, just wait and give me a second.” Without looking at him, she crouched down until she was on her knees, not wasting time before putting her mouth back over him. Again, he grunted above her, but it almost seemed forced at this point. But, Summer was determined to do this right. If he wasn’t going to give her any direction, she would sit here all night until she made him cum.

Gripping the edge of his pants again, Summer put her back into it this time, bobbing up and down on him, trying to go slow, but gaining speed the longer she did this. She just needed to put more feeling into it. She tried licking the tip of his cock as she came up, going back down and tightening her mouth back over him, easing down as far as she could, making sure to keep her gag reflex in check.

The longer she did this, the more she felt like an idiot, trying so desperately to get him off, only to gauge absolutely no reaction from him. Was he doing it on purpose? Was he mocking her? It was a possibility, but Summer wasn’t about to let him make a goddamn fool out of her for forcing him to let her do this, only to fail miserably at it. She was going to make him cum whether he liked it or not.

Just when Summer was at her wit’s end, she felt him underneath her. When he grew stiff, his breathing heavier, and slowly, almost agonizingly slow, she could feel him harden in her mouth. So, she _was_ doing something right. Not about to let this slip away, Summer kept doing what she was doing, gaining speed, gripping his pants so hard, her nails were starting to dig through. God, she was so desperate, it was gross how desperate she was to make him cum. Even if it made her choke, she wanted him to cum in her mouth, no matter how messy, but goddamn, she wanted it.

She was crazy. Fucking crazy to do this, to want to do this. But—if Grampa could see she was useful too, could see how much better she was at this than Morti could ever be, Summer would—

“Summer, stop.” His voice ripped her away from her thoughts, mostly because he sounded so tired, and when she didn’t stop at first, his hands were in her hair, pulling up on her roots until she flinched in pain. “It’s not going to happen, alright? You can suck me off all night, but I’m not feeling it, okay?”

Her throat tightened when she pulled off him, his hands still in her hair, but he removed them when she looked up at him, and her face must have looked ridiculous, because she could have sworn he was looking down at her with pity.

But, she wasn’t about to let him run away from her. “S-so, go inside m—”

“Fuck no, I’m not doing that.” He cut her off before she could even finish her sentence, and Summer rose from her knees, now standing taller than him, her mouth aching, her back hurting from being in the position she was for so long, and her face was hot from embarrassment.

“Why not?” It was pathetic how riled up she was getting from this. He told her to stop, and yet there he was, still hard, but it had taken him so long to even get hard in the first place. It must’ve felt good, right? Why did he make her stop? Why wouldn’t he just let her do this?

His head snapped up. “What do you mean why not? Do you even realize what you’re saying? I’m not sticking my dick in you, Summer, for _fuck’s_ sake!”

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to feel up Morti all night long, but when I’m telling you I actually _want_ it, it’s not good enough for you?” Her hair fell in her face when she had to look away from his face then, on the verge of tears, and she’d be _damned_ if she cried in front of him. Not after everything she’d gone through. Not after two restless weeks of staying up night after night, not after finally getting him here, just for him to reject her like this. Goddammit, Summer was shaking.

“Don’t start with that bullshit again.”

“Why does it matter to you where you put your stupid dick, as long as you’re getting some pussy? Am I not good enough for you or what?” Now her emotions were getting the better of her and she was saying a bunch of shit she hadn’t meant to. Not this honest, she didn’t want him to know she was jealous of Morticia, but fuck it if it wasn’t all coming out.

“Summer, goddammit, you aren’t supposed to _want_ this— you’re supposed to stay out of it!”

“Why? Why can’t you let me at least try? It might feel good if you just let me try!”

At that, Rick made to stand up, but Summer flung herself on him, gripping his shoulders and shoving him back down onto the bed, putting her full weight onto him until she was sitting on him, his erection very prominent against her thigh. “NO! You’ll see, I’ll make you see, Grampa! You don’t need Morti, and if you won’t let me try—then I’ll just have to prove it to you myself!”

She fought to keep her weight on him as she yanked down her own pants, not concerned with how desperate she was being right now, solely focused on allowing her urges to come to a head, until she was fully aware she was sexually assaulting her grandpa right now. But, she didn’t care.

And, if she hadn’t been paying attention to his weak struggles beneath her, she wouldn’t have noticed how little he was actually fighting against her. If Rick truly didn’t want her to do this, he could have pushed her off. He could have yelled, screamed, done something? Anything.

But, with her pajama bottoms now rolled down to her ankles, her panties following soon after, Summer dared to look up at his face for a brief moment when she was exposed to him.

The expression on his face was difficult to read. He wasn’t angry—or annoyed for that matter.

He just looked tired.

With his fingers wrapped around her arm and squeezing, he had stopped moving beneath her, only giving her a half-lidded expression with his brow furrowed. He didn’t fight. He didn’t even protest.

Almost as if he was allowing this to happen, despite what he said. Summer knew he could and would have pushed her off if he really didn’t want this. To see his tired expression, the look of a person who just downright didn’t give a shit, she didn’t hesitate.

And when she sank down onto him, with no preparation on her end, the pain caused the breath to catch in her throat and she almost lost it entirely. She hissed through her teeth as she felt her insides rip at the invasion, but she was determined and desperate for this. Her desperation wouldn’t allow her to give into the pain. She wouldn’t allow herself to back away now. Not after everything—every _goddamn_ thing she’d done for this.

With the pain below her dulling to a more bearable level, Summer gripped his arm that was still clutching her own with her opposite hand, just to have something to hold onto, and moved herself back up. If possible, it hurt even worse coming back out, but she didn’t let herself catch her breath before sinking back down, and this time, she couldn’t control the sobs that clawed their way out of the back of her throat.

She cried. The sobs pierced out into the quiet night air, feeling tangible as the tears followed not long afterward. Summer pulled out, and back in, crying as she did so, no longer feeling the invasive pain, but the desperation in her own movements, as she knew in the back of her mind that she had lost. She sank the lowest she could have possibly sunk and it was all for nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

“Summer.” Rick’s voice sounded hoarse beneath her, and he gently squeezed her arm, tugging as a way of telling her to stop. “It’s not going to work, okay? Stop doing this to yourself.”

Despite what he said, she continued forcing herself up and down, up and down, until her thighs ached from the movement, until she had cried so hard, the tears blurred her vision and she could no longer see that pitying expression on his face.

Finally, she sank down onto him, stopping her movements until her entire body quaked as she sobbed, and she reached out to grip hold of his shirt and squeezed. “Wh-why…” She cried, the tears falling onto him as she allowed all the horrible emotions inside of her to escape. “Wh-why d-don’t you want me, Rick?”

She felt his hands come to her sides, gently pulling her up and off him. Summer didn’t resist, allowing him to move her off and away from him, until he had maneuvered himself out from under her, and she was sitting on the bed, looking absolutely fucking stupid without her pants on, and tears falling down her hot and red face. She refused to look at him as he moved off the bed, standing up straight as he fixed his underwear and zipped his pants back up.

He never answered her, instead made his way to the door before unlocking it. Summer hid her face in her arm as she continued to cry, not that it would have done much good. She had already sunken lower than dirt, how much lower could she possibly go?

Rick paused before he turned the handle, and quietly, almost so quiet Summer barely heard him, said, “I’m sorry,” before he opened the door and exited, his footsteps echoing down the hallway back toward his own room before fading completely.

A dull pain throbbed in her head as the only thing Summer could do then was grab her pillow, shove her face in it to muffle herself, and allow the sobs to come out of her until there was nothing else left.


End file.
